Going, going

No, not a minor public school, but Stroud hospital, constructed 1874 and onwards, now under threat of closure, as the role of the NHS (National Health service) in Gloucestershire is once again open to question. The private companies are circling.

I've only been seriously ill once in my adult life, when I was an inpatient at Gloucester Royal Hospital , being treated for pneumonia a couple of years ago. I had been ill at home for a couple of weeks before being admitted, and CleanSteve was ill too, so if it hadn't been for the IV drugs and the other assistance I received, I might not be here now. Those who spoke to me and saw me at the time seem to concur that I was completely off my trolley, as well as looking a bit peely-wally. If I had been asked to pay for my own treatment, I might have had to sell my soul to the Loan Sharks.

But that is enough of the maudlin Dickensian thoughts. The sky is blue, and my old school friend from Perthshire, who now lives in Reading, is coming to visit, so I must awa' to the station to meet her. The wine is in the fridge.

The title of my blip comes from a poem by Philip Larkin
it talks of the destruction of the countryside rather than of social provision, but I think it is relevant to today's topic.